


James Bloody Potter

by buttons_n_bose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual James Potter, Enemies to Lovers, Gay Regulus Black, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, House Rivalry, Language, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV Regulus Black, Quidditch, Quidditch Seekers, Regulus Black Deserves Better, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, james is a seeker because i said so, regulus is in sixth year, seventh year marauders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttons_n_bose/pseuds/buttons_n_bose
Summary: On principle, Regulus hated his brother's friends. They'd taken Sirius from him, after all. Sirius had always been at his side until he'd gone to Hogwarts, until he'd met those boys, those mauraders. He had five years of experience hating them. But the sixth year...well, the sixth year was proving to be a bit harder.
Relationships: Regulus Black/James Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 182





	James Bloody Potter

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I know JKR said that James was a Chaser, but we don't listen to her and he's a Seeker in the movies. So, for the sake of My Convenience, James is a Seeker.

On principle, Regulus hated his brother's friends.

Sirius had promised to write when he went to Hogwarts, and he'd kept that promise. Every Saturday, without fail, the family owl arrived at Regulus' bedroom window. Regulus waited for them impatiently, eager for more stories about the school and his brother and life away from the Most Noble House of Black.

It was spring when Sirius first missed a letter. On the last Saturday of March, Regulus woke up early to sit at the windowsill, eyes bright despite the early hour as he anticipated that day's letter. Hours passed before he realized the truth: the letter wasn't coming. This didn't stop him from writing to Sirius all the same, asking if everything was alright and how that prank with Potter had gone and if detention with McGonagall was as bad as he had made it sound. But the next Saturday came and went without another word from his brother, and when Sirius finally wrote, it was short and hastily scrawled, as if Regulus wasn't worth more than ten minutes of his time.

Despite being only nine, Regulus had learned many of life's harder lessons. He knew family didn't necessarily have to love you, and he knew he didn't like to be on the opposite end of his father's cane. And now he had learned a new lesson: despite the alliances you might form, you travel through life alone. He stopped waiting for his brother's letters, and found some small comfort in hating the faceless boys Sirius had written so fondly of. Who were Potter and Lupin and Pettigrew, to take Sirius from him? To teach Sirius that he could turn his back on family, on his little brother? The brother he had promised time and time again to protect?

Not that Regulus needed any protection. He was more than capable of handling things for himself, and that's just what he did. With a surprising amount of skill, he forged his father's writing and signature, sending a letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to apologize for the miscommunication: their youngest son, Regulus Arcturus Black, would be turning eleven the next year, and would be attending their school in the fall. He asked (he never demanded) Kreacher to intercept the response letter before it could reach his parents, and the house elf followed through. And that was that: Regulus would be attending Hogwarts a year earlier than planned.

Sirius had taken the news surprisingly well, in Regulus' opinion. He'd half-expected his brother to have forgotten about him, but when Sirius returned home in the summer, he was back to himself, the brother Regulus knew. The brother who protected him from their father, yelled on his behalf at their mother, snuck him dinner when he was punished and let him sleep in his bedroom when the July thunderstorms felt like they would tear the house right from the ground. The Black brothers boarded the Hogwarts Express together on September 1, and for the first time in months, Regulus thought everything would be back to normal.

And things did go back to normal, for Sirius. He fell back into the pattern he'd so comfortably slipped into in his first year, spending time with his friends and being a headache to the professors. Regulus was much quieter than his brother, falling into something of a vow of somewhat-silence right after the sorting hat yelled the one word Regulus dreaded to hear:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Regulus had been holding Sirius' gaze at the Gryffindor table, hoping, wishing, praying to be placed at his brother's side. He didn't care what his parents would think, would say, would do. He wanted to be with Sirius, just like he'd always been. With Sirius, everything would be okay.

But of course, nothing worked out for Regulus Black, did it? He pinned the Slytherin broach to his robes, and tied the green and silver silk around his neck like some kind of ironically symbolic noose, and tried to forget the look of disappointment in his brother's eyes. The hat had only confirmed what Regulus had known, thanks to a sinking feeling in his stomach that had been steadily growing for a year: he was alone.

Regulus stayed out of his brother's way after that. Sirius Black gained his reputation as the hardheaded, reckless, lovably frustrating badboy of Gryffindor house, somehow doing well in classes while also giving any member of Hogwarts administration a little slice of their own personal hell. He and his friends were legends on school grounds, and Regulus faded into the background. He made a few friends, but never forgot the lesson his brother had so lovingly taught him: even your best friends, your most trusted allies, could leave.

Regulus hated all of his brother's friends, those marauders, but he hated Potter the most. Potter, who never came down from his high-horse, who always said the right thing at the right time, who was Gryffindor's golden boy. Potter, who Regulus had personally heard Sirius call his "brother," as if he didn't have one by blood. Potter, who had so easily taken a life that should belong to Regulus. Potter, James _bloody_ Potter, who had taken Sirius from him.

*****

Regulus liked Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games the best.

Everyone did. Out of the four houses, no combination had a rivalry quite like that of Slytherin and Gryffindor. With the exception of that bizarre period in his fourth year, when Slytherin and Ravenclaw were at each other's throats for months with seemingly no explanation, the ongoing Slytherin/Gryffindor was equally entertaining regardless of house. While everyone tried to come to most Quidditch games, the stands were always packed when the rival houses played.

Regulus rarely got nervous before games. Flying helped clear his head, and he was a talented Seeker: everyone said so. It was one of very few things he let stroke his ego. That said, he could barely find it in him to eat. He stared at his lunch, salad and roast chicken and some kind of bread roll Emma had insisted he eat.

"Nerves catching up to you?" she teased. She'd stepped down from her position as captain in order to focus on her N.E.W.T. exams studies, but she never stopped looking out for her teammates.

"Just not hungry," said Regulus, "not sure why." This was a lie, of course: he knew exactly why. Because at the next table over, James Potter ate a sandwich of bacon, lettuce, and tomato without a care in the world. He laughed at something Lupin said, adding his own quip that nearly made Pettigrew choke on his pumpkin juice. Sirius' laugh was the loudest of all as he clapped Potter on the back.

"Stop staring," Emma suggested, rolling her eyes. "You're only working yourself up."

"It's part of my pre-game routine," said Regulus, pushing lettuce around his plate with his fork. "I stare at Potter and hope he drops dead."

"Hope he drops something, that's for sure."

Regulus shot her a look. "You said you'd leave it alone when the rumour died."

"I also said your cousin's haircut looked good, but we all know Cissy doesn't wear a bob well."

"You're such a bitch, Em."

"I know." Emma smiled wide enough to show her crooked tooth, which she'd long since stopped being self-conscious over. "Eat up, you'll need your strength to beat the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen."

"More like the biggest prat Hogwarts has ever seen," Regulus grumbled, but he ate his lunch all the same.

In the locker room, Regulus pulled on his robes and triple-checked the shape of his broom. He stayed quiet as the other boys on the team engaged in idle chatter, though he left with them to join the girls at the side of the pitch. He could hear the commotion of students in the stands, people placing wagers and recalling the events of the last game, where Slytherin had beaten Hufflepuff by an almost embarrassing amount. Regulus had been the one to catch the Snitch, and he was determined to catch it again today. There was no way he was losing a game, not against James Potter.

The team mounted their brooms and flew onto the pitch, hovering in position with Gryffindor mirroring them. Above everyone else, Potter called out to Regulus.

"You alright there, Black? Looking a little queasy."

Regulus glared at him, wishing it wasn't a foul to fly closer and punch him right where his glasses sat. "Can you blame me? I have to look at your face during the starting commentary."

Potter only laughed, hearty and full, and Regulus scowled. Why did everything he say simply bounce off the Gryffindor Seeker? It wasn't fair.

There was a sharp tweet as the whistle was blown. The Quaffle was thrown into the air and the game began, but Regulus had been too distracted to see where the Snitch had gone. "Bloody hell," he muttered, flying away from the centre of the pitch, out of the way of actual gameplay as he scanned the field for a flash of gold.

Regulus had always been good at blocking out the rest of the game. His teammates praised him for it: his focus made him an excellent Seeker, even if it made him seem uninterested in how the rest of the team was doing during the game. But he always made sure to congratulate (or empathize with) the others when the game ended, so none of them took it as an offence.

Potter was the opposite. He cheered on the other members of his team, following from a distance on his broom, performing celebratory loops when a Gryffindor Chaser scored. On more than one occasion, he flew towards the stands, high-fiving students standing at the edge, and even daring to tug the hair of a red-haired girl who looked like she was trying her best not to smile.

Regulus refused to acknowledge the fact that he found it somewhat endearing. Potter was so... _good _with people. He didn't even have to try, there was something about his smile and devil-may-care attitude that drew people in. Something about how naturally Potter flew, how his hair was always just the right amount of messy, how he held his wand carelessly between his long fingers that looked, in all honesty, so soft—__

__"BLACK!" A Bludger whistled passed Regulus' ear, interrupting his thoughts. He nearly lost balance, gripping his broomstick tightly as he shot towards the ground, sharply pointing it back up to return to the sky. His cheeks prickled with embarrassment, knowing people had seen. Potter, especially, was watching from the other side of the pitch. Regulus could practically hear him make some sort of snide remark._ _

__The game continued, both sides scoring goals with mixed reactions in the stands, but the Snitch was nowhere to be found. Potter had taken to tailing Regulus around the pitch, much to his annoyance. He did his best to shake the other Seeker, but Potter seemed intent on being exceptionally dickheaded. Regulus eventually turned to face him._ _

__"What gives, Potter?"_ _

__"Just thought you could use the company." His grin made Regulus' stomach swoop. It must have been nausea._ _

__"I'd rather get hit by a Bludger."_ _

__"Didn't seem that way earlier." He flew closer. "What got you distracted, Black?"_ _

__"Who says I was distracted?"_ _

__"Well, you sure weren't looking for the Snitch." Seeming to suddenly remember there was a game going on, he did a quick look around the pitch before turning back to Regulus. "Y'know, if I didn't know any better, it almost looked like you were watching me."_ _

__"In your dreams," Regulus spat._ _

__In typical Potter fashion, he had the audacity to smile. "How'd you know?"_ _

__Regulus had no idea what to say to that, or how to explain the sudden cardiac arrest his heart seemed to find itself in. Gryffindor scored another goal, the roar of support from the stands jerking Regulus back to the game. "Fuck you, Potter," he replied, and sped away before a response could be made._ _

__It was Potter who caught the Snitch. The commentator, a Ravenclaw who was clearly struggling to remain impartial, announced the end of the game, along with the final score and a recount of Potter's winning catch. Regulus got in line behind the rest of his teammates as they shook hands with the Gryffindors, mumbling halfhearted 'good game's and 'congratulations'. The Seekers shook hands last, and Regulus gripped Potter's gloved hand a little tighter than he had the others._ _

__"Good game," said Potter, and Regulus almost believed he meant it._ _

__"Go to hell," said Regulus through gritted teeth._ _

__

__Regulus stayed in the showers longer than the rest of his team, so everyone was gone by the time he left. He walked alone across the grounds back to the castle, robes stuffed into his bag, shirt half-tucked into his trousers, tie hanging undone under his shirt collar. He was tired and embarrassed, and he wanted to disappear into his dorm until June. Unfortunately, dinner was in an hour, and he was rather hungry. As long as he could make it alone..._ _

__"Oi, Black!"_ _

__Great. Regulus looked up to see his least-favourite Gryffindor (though the title was reassigned at random depending on which of Sirius' friends he decided to detest the most that day) walking quickly towards him, golden-rimmed glasses glinting in the warm spring sun and hair ruffling in the breeze, wand sticking out of his back pocket._ _

__"Speak of the Devil," Regulus deadpanned._ _

__Potter fell into step beside him. "You were speaking of me?"_ _

__"No." Regulus readjusted the bag on his shoulder. "I just think you're the devil."_ _

__"Handsome? Irresistible?" Potter took off his glasses, cleaned them with his tie, put them back on. "Enticing?"_ _

__"Vain," said Regulus, "and a dick."_ _

__"Really?" He could hear Potter's smile, even if he couldn't see it. "Because I think there's something else going on."_ _

__"Oh, yeah? What's that?"_ _

__"I think you've caught onto the fact that I can't stop staring at you."_ _

__Regulus felt his throat drop into his stomach, as if he'd just walked right off the Astronomy Tower. "What?"_ _

__"And you know why I think that?" He didn't bother waiting for a response. "Because I've caught you staring, too."_ _

__"Has it ever occurred to you that I'm looking at my _brother?_ " Regulus knew his face was bright red, he could feel it. He only hoped Potter was too blind to see, regardless of whether or not he was wearing his glasses. "You know, the bloke you're with twenty-four-fucking-seven."_ _

__"Yeah, but you're not, are you? Whenever I look over, you're already looking, and you try to pretend you're not."_ _

__"You're so self-centered," Regulus managed, forcing himself to look up at the Gryffindor despite every bone in his body wanting to disintegrate._ _

__"Maybe a little," Potter admitted, which didn't exactly help Regulus reign in any emotions. "I also know that you dated Barty Crouch Jr. last year."_ _

__"What's your point, Potter?"_ _

__Potter stopped walking. Regulus was a few steps ahead before it registered that he should probably stop, too. He did, turning to find Potter looking more unsure than he'd ever seen him— granted, he'd never seen him unsure before, but there was something about the faint blush on Potter's cheeks and the way he wouldn't meet Regulus' eyes that only made his heart beat faster. "My point, Black, is that I fancy you. If you can tell me, right now, that you're not interested, I'll go, and we can pretend this never happened. You can keep pretending to hate me, and I'll pretend to hate you, and I'll try to get Pads to make things right with you."_ _

__Regulus was certain this was some sort of sick joke. The Gryffindor team had orchestrated the perfect comeback: beat Slytherin on the Quidditch pitch, and then get Regulus Black's crush to recite a confession on the way to dinner that makes his knees absolutely week. Brilliantly executed, everyone. Well played._ _

__"Regulus?"_ _

__He'd never heard Potter say his first name before. He wasn't convinced Potter knew it. "Yeah."_ _

__"Yeah, what?"_ _

___Oh, Merlin._ "I'm interested. I fancy you. Despite my best efforts to hate you with every fibre of my being...I fancy you."_ _

__Potter's million-dollar smile returned as quickly as it had fallen, and for a moment, Regulus wondered if the reason he hated it so much was because it was so damn attractive. "Right. Well. Brilliant."_ _

__"Does my brother know?" Regulus found himself asking._ _

__Potter shook his head. "He doesn't have to."_ _

__"I'd rather he didn't. Just for a while."_ _

__"I can do a while." Potter's hands were in his pockets now. "Can I walk with you?"_ _

__"You didn't ask before," said Regulus, turning to walk towards the castle. "I don't see why you have to now."_ _

__Potter quickly caught up, walking in even step beside him. "So you were thinking about me, then? During the game?"_ _

__"No," said Regulus, though they both knew it was a lie._ _

__"Good," said Potter. "I wasn't thinking about you, either."_ _


End file.
